


You and Me

by dawnperhaps



Series: Audio Posts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnperhaps/pseuds/dawnperhaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam prays to Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written to the tune of "You and Me" by Rosie Thomas.

Sam still prays sometimes.  He’s almost certain that it’s a pointless exercise, but it lets him relax, let him revert back to the time when he thought maybe this all meant something.  Praying makes him think of quiet hotel rooms, of the time before he’d ever touched a gun or faced a ghost, of finding peace by simply asking for divine help and guidance.  Sam can’t fool himself anymore – he knows now that the meanings of life are just ridiculous battles of pride and bitterness between a much stronger family than his own – but the comforting feeling is still attainable, brought about by the familiar, repetitive words.  And he finds it in himself to be grateful sometimes.  He’s grateful that Dean is healthy and managing, that Castiel is finally on the slow journey back to angelic mental health, that Gabriel is alive and by his side more often than not.  And in fact, it’s that thought that has him scouring the internet for an appropriate prayer, going through list after list of epistles dedicated to the various saints and angels.  Many of them are dry or unnatural sounding, but he finds one that’s suitable, one he really means on some level, and he interlocks his fingers before he begins.

_Saint Gabriel the Archangel, I venerate you as the Angel of the Incarnation, because God specially appointed you to bear the messages concerning the Son of God to Daniel, Zechariah, and the Blessed Virgin Mary.  
_

_I venerate you also as the giver of God’s strength, consoler and comforter chosen to strengthen God’s faithful and teach them important truths. I ask for the grace to strive for holiness of life. Steady my resolutions; renew my courage; comfort and console me in the problems, trials and sufferings of daily living, as you consoled our Savior in his agony and Mary in her sorrows and Joseph in his trials._

Sam doesn’t expect Gabriel to actually appear, preceded by the loud sound of his six wings stirring the air.  Although he’s used to the sudden appearance of angels, Sam does pause in his recitation to look up at Gabriel questioningly.  Gabriel stares back at him, breathing heavily like he sprinted to Sam’s bedside without the use of his wings, his eyes blazing in controlled anger.  Despite the obvious frustration all over his face, Gabriel exudes discomfort, his shoulders tight like he’s trying to keep his wings from flapping from nerves.  To anyone else, he might look murderous, but Sam knows him better than that and has been around the other members of their little family long enough to recognize the difference between fury and apprehension.

Instead of cowering in fear, Sam raises his eyebrows and plainly states, “I wasn’t done.”

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands, his voice low and angelic, Grace and power lighting up his eyes.

“Praying,” Sam tells him with a shrug.  “I do it sometimes.  It’s like meditation.”

“You were praying _to me_ ,” Gabriel corrects.  “So I guess my question is _why_?”

“You’re sort of my angel now,” Sam says, although he hesitates to stake a claim.  “So I thought it made sense.”

“That’s a stupid prayer,” Gabriel blurts out, stalking across the room and turning Sam’s laptop to read over the lines.  “I am not the ‘ _giver of God’s strength_.’  Where the heck did you even find this?  Wikipedia?”

“It was a website about archangels,” Sam says a little defensively, turning his laptop away from Gabriel’s judgmental stare.

“And where was that prayer?  Right next to ‘Fuck you very much, Saint Michael’ and ‘Way to be a dick, O Raphael?’”

“Where is this coming from?” Sam asks, quietly and carefully, knowing the territory he’s tiptoeing into is dangerous.  Sam hasn’t even heard the names of the other archangels on Gabriel’s lips since he returned from the dead, but the bitterness in Gabriel’s eyes is due to something else, something more internal.

“Don’t _venerate_ me, Sam,” Gabriel demands, crossing his arms like a petulant child.  The angel exhales heavily through his nose and his eyes grow a little desperate.  “I’m not… I don’t-”

“You don’t deserve it?” Sam guesses.  It’s an easy riddle.  It always is with Gabriel as well as with himself.  Gabriel just tightens his lips, looking away from Sam in annoyance.  Sam gives him a moment before he says, “I think you do.”  Gabriel still doesn’t look at him, just inhales sharply and keeps his eyes downcast.

“How long has it been?” Sam asks.  “Since someone prayed to you.”

“With a legitimate prayer and not a plea for mercy?” Gabriel asks, no humor to be found in his smirk.  “A while.”

“Then let me,” Sam says firmly, locking his gaze with Gabriel’s and holding it.  “I’ll worship you.  I want to.”

Sam doesn’t wait for permission.  He goes back to reciting his prayer, softly and reverently, glancing up to ensure that the angel isn’t furious.  But Gabriel only shudders and lets out a sigh, closing his eyes as Sam speaks, and Sam thinks he’s never felt more at peace in prayer.

When he reaches the end, he skips over the amen and starts again from the beginning.


End file.
